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Corvus the Crow Apr 2020
The Father of the Earth awoke,

And gave a gift to each of his sons.

The first was knowledge,

So that they might triumph.

The second was will,

So that they might rage.

The third was hope,

So that they might endure.

And his sons gazed on high to ask,

"Why?"

And the Father was silent.

For no answer could justify the pain that would be his final gift,

So that they might see what it is to be alive.
Purpose.
Corvus the Crow Jun 2019
I wish my heart were more water than stone,
So that I could cry for your departure.
I wish my head were more glass than bone,
So you could see how much I care,
Corvus the Crow Nov 2018
On severed ground, he breathes slow.
For the only thing beating in his chest is sound.
Corvus the Crow Aug 2018
Falling, and falling, as I always have,
I will consider a final line,
The essence of my life will search,
In the last moments I have left,
That maybe I found the words,
To describe the infinite,
Until then,
Falling, and falling, as I always have,
Cheers.
Corvus the Crow Mar 2018
The piano was just a sound,
The drawings could never cry,
The kisses were never close enough,
And the words are never right,

The pull and drill of whispers,
Their dance inside my head,
Cold claws in cords of steel,
Reaching through the cracks in my skull,

The medium is never enough,
The emotion is an ocean of expression,
This tiny tub is too full of water,
Sinking under the raging surface,

Why so much pain,
So much blanketing loneliness,
This ache for more,
This lust for more,

To have back what was stolen,
To take what will never be mine,
To love in endless romance,
To drink in smooth recline,

Boom,
Snap,
Crack,
Break,

The ugly crooked grin,
The ***** air so thin,
The putrid water taking over me,
The sky so bleak and gone,

Where is all the love,
Where is all the peace,
Corvus the Crow Feb 2018
Do recall the day we met,

The spring didn't know how bright it would be to me,

I recall I saw as I rounded the bend,

You, sitting on the little bench,

The wood was worn, and brittle broke,

You smiled and stood, to humor me,

To hug the empty soul you saw,

I do recall the day we met,

Your smell, your hair, your airy laugh,

I tried my best to move like you,

To imitate the beauty beholden to you,

But my ungraceful hands,

My coarse, curly, weeded hair,

Will never do to feel like yours,

If I do recall the day we met,
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